


A Beginning

by TheMadHatterOfficial



Series: Eyes, Bodies, and Potions [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Child Abuse, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Ron Weasley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-02-16 12:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18691918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadHatterOfficial/pseuds/TheMadHatterOfficial
Summary: The Golden Trio was always meant to take down Voldemort. That's a given.But maybe, if things happened a bit differently, if the pieces managed to link together in a different way...It's the Trio's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There's little fire's within them, flickering black flames that warm their icy veins. They will soon find true solace in one another. These lonely children with glass bones that will band together to form together to become a something more than themselves. Than the world could ever know.Life, in general, is rarely what it seems on the surface. And one day, the Wizarding World will get their brutal awakening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wassup? So, if you haven't read the first part, it's whatever. I'd recommend it, not only because it's awesome, but because it gives a little more backstory and is kind of a summary by itself. This series will get into some dark shit. But if I think something's really bad or triggering, I'll put them in the notes at the end of each chapter. I'm planning on three chapter for this installment, but there should be more parts coming afterwards. Happy reading!

The wizarding world was amazing.

Harry settled into the compartment he’d chosen and reflected on the short time in which he’d begun to explore it. Uncle Vernon had locked away his school things until he left for King’s Cross, so he’d hardly had enough time to actually sort through his things.

Now was the perfect time. Harry stood on the seat as the train screeched its way off of the platform , sliding the first textbook he touched out of his trunk, before settling down to read it.

But before he could begin reading about an introduction to transfiguration, the compartment door slid open and a gangly boy with flaming red hair ducked his head in sheepishly.

“Do you mind? Everywhere else is full.”

“Of course not.”

As he entered, Harry got a better look at the boy’s face. He was part of that family that had helped him onto the platform. Now that he was close, Harry could see the light from outside the window illuminate his eyes. Like the sun bouncing off of a lake at noon, clear and bright.

The boy gave an awkward smile, one side of his mouth rising higher than the other as the two sat across from one another. “I’m Ron Weasley.”

Harry jumped to attention, returning the smile a bit too enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”

Ron’s eyes quickly widened, as if they were trying to escape from his skull. Harry quickly decided that he really liked Ron’s eyes. They were so expressive. Emotions washing through their entirety, like a toe was dipped into the water and it rippled its effects throughout the body.

“ _ Really _ ? Like…  _ wow _ . Is it true?”

Harry’s brows pulled together as his head tilted ever so slightly in confusion. “Is what true?”

Ron looked absolutely flabbergasted as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you really have… you know…  _ the scar _ ?”

“Oh!” Harry pulls up his fringe to show the scar, grin widened as Ron stared in shock,

His voice took on a reverent tone as he stared in shock at the thin silver bolt slashing its way through Harry’s dark skin in a violent thrashing way. “ _ Wicked _ .”

“So are you excited?” Ron asked excitedly.

Harry nodded quickly, pulling his knees up onto the seat. “Definitely. I’ve never been to a wizarding school.”

A moment later, Harry cringed internally. I’ve never been to a wizarding school? Really? That’s obvious.

But Harry was thankful as Ron didn’t comment on it. “I know. What house are you hoping for? Me, I’m holding out for Gryffindor. My whole family’s been in Gryffindor for ages, so it’ll be a bit disappointing if I’m not.”

“Oh. Um.” Harry floundered, not having been able to read up on the school as much as he would have liked to. “I’m not really sure what house I want. Ravenclaw sounds cool, but so does Gryffindor. I don’t think I really have a preference.”

“Yeah, Ravenclaw’s alright. As long as I don’t get the other two, I think it’ll be fine.”

After that, the two fell into a friendly conversation about what they were most excited about. Harry quickly grew to like Ron. He’d never had a friend before, and if this was what it was like, Harry couldn’t wait until Hogwarts. Maybe he’d even get another friend. Dudley had tons. And if someone like Dudley had friends, perhaps there was hope yet for Harry.

It seemed that this friendship was only strengthened by the mountain of sweets Harry’s procured for the pair of them.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a large bang of their compartment door opening sharply.

Through it came a girl wearing a slightly pinched expression as she took in the scene before her. She immediately engaged in a staring contest with Ron about one thing or the other, and it seemed like they had come to the mutual conclusion that they would not like each other.

She turned to face Harry, ignoring Ron. “Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.”

“No, sorry.” Ron quickly snapped.

The girl turned around to glare, but in the process caught sight of Harry’s trunk. Her eyes widened like Ron’s did, and Harry liked that too.

They were big and brown, almost black. There weren’t a lot of people with dark skin on Privet Drive, aside from Harry, so it was cool to see. With the combination of brown skin, eyes, and hair, Harry decided that he really liked it.

“Oh my… you’re Harry Potter!” The girl moved her weight around and stood straighter as she faced him. “I’m Hermione Granger. And…” Hermione reluctantly turned around to face the other habitant of the compartment. “...you are?”

“Ron Weasley.”

“Pleasure.”

So with that, a few words about approaching the school and robes, Hermione departed to continue searching for the toad.

“What a  _ nightmare _ .”

“I guess,” Harry replied noncommittally.

“You were staring at her a lot. Why’s that?”

Harry pursed his lips before humming and turning to reach for another pumpkin pasty on the other side of his pile. “I dunno. She had really pretty eyes, I guess?”

“You think so?” Ron scrunched up his nose in distaste and craning his head to stare at where Hermione had left.

“Well, I think everybody does. They’re all different. It’s fascinating.”

“Oh.”

Harry paused for a moment before asking, “Do you think I’m weird?”

Ron seemed to think about it for a moment before answering. “Well, someone who’s faced down a Dark Lord is bound to be a little weird. But that’s okay. You’re the good kind of weird, I think.”

“...Thanks. I think.”

“Don’t mention it.”

* * *

The Great Hall was huge.

Harry stared in awe all around him and he followed the crowd towards the front of the room. He stared in shock as the big, dusty old hat on a stool began to sing ( _ sing _ !) about the houses and the school. Harry shared bright eyed glances with Ron more than once, their excitement palpable among the swarm of first years all bouncing on their toes and anxious to get on with it.

And as the students begin to get called up, the tension only escalates. Harry watches the hat sit on the students’ heads before roaring out its decision, their respective houses cheering wildly every time. Harry hears Ron groan as Hermione from the Train gets sorted into Gryffindor and cringes when the pale boy from Madame Malkin’s gets sorted into Slytherin without hesitation.

_ Great. _

“Potter, Harry.”

A hush falls over the hall as Harry makes his way up. His heart picks up even more so than before, beating a wild tattoo against his bones and flesh caging it within his body. Harry keeps his head down as he rushes forward, counting his steps in eights, until he reaches the stool and lets Professor McGonagall pull the brim over his head.

_ “My my my. What have we with this one?” _

Harry jerks underneath the hat as a croaky old voice reverberates within his own head. “What-”

 _“Shh, I’m concentrating.”_ Harry bites his tongue and waits in nervous anticipation. _"Yes, a lot of courage in you, that’s very clear. Talent, too. And a thirst to prove yourself. Yes, so many options for you.”_

Unbidden, thoughts of Malfoy’s smug face smirked over the crowd and his grating voice are called forth in Harry’s mind. He  _ definitely  _ doesn’t want to be stuck with  _ him  _ of all people.

_ Not Slytherin, please. _

_“Not Slytherin, eh?”_ Fuck. _“Why is that? Never mind that, I can read your thoughts. But Slytherin would be good for you! It’ll help you on your path to greatness.”_

“I don’t want to be great. I just want to be me.”

“Is that so?" The hat sounded contemplative, debating something or another without letting Harry in on what it was. _"I believe Slytherin would embrace you and your… dare I say more unusual tastes.”_

Harry could _feel_ his blood freeze in his veins. “What do you mean by that?”

_“I can see a darkness in you, Harry Potter. It’s there, crawling around your mind and sinking its claws into your very soul.”_

And suddenly, Harry could feel his eyes burn as his throat closed up dangerously. He thought about that man, the one who’d killed his parents. Voldemort. He thought about growing up to be like him. Growing up to steal parents away from their babies before they can even learn to love them.

“I don’t want to be evil.”

 _“Did I_ say _evil? No, I didn’t. I said a_ darkness _. But that’s to be expected of someone with your history. Gryffindor, I’m not sure about. But Slytherin. Slytherin will lead your path down one of strength. Of power.”_

Harry shook his head impulsively, desperate. His heart was on his tongue and he had to desperately swallow it back down. “I don’t _want_ power. _Please_.”

 _“Is that so?”_ A pause from the hat, allowing a few desperate drags of air to enter Harry’s lungs.

_thumpthumpthump_

_“Well, if you feel that strongly about it.”_

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_“Better be...”_

_Thump._

_"GRYFFINDOR!”_

The hall falls silent for a beat before it erupts in absolute _chaos_. Harry stumbles forward in a daze, greeting by hands slapping his back enthusiastically and cheering about how they ‘got Potter.’ Harry was finally able to let out a few little gasping laughs, looking towards all their bright grins and shining eyes, maniacal with excitement and glee.

And when Ron ran up next to him, teeth showing and body uncontrollably buzzing with unbridled elation, Harry decided that today was even better than Dudley’s birthday at the zoo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The atmosphere around Hogwarts rapidly change as Halloween rapidly approached.

Even in the dingy potions' classroom where hardly any light came through there was a hum that followed the students. The promise of sweets and celebrations was enough to carry them through the days leading up.

Harry and Ron were working together today brewing the potion they'd been studying for the past week. Admittedly, Ron hadn't been paying much attention the last few classes, contenting himself to quietly knocking Harry's chair and fidgeting restlessly through Snape's endless droning.

"If you kick my seat one more time I swear to God I'm going to kick _you_ hard enough that we switch colors."

Ron rolled his eyes and contented himself to watching Harry go about the potion. Occasionally he would hand Ron some thing or the other for him to cut or dice, but other than that both of them seemed too tired and bored to do much else.

The rest of the class didn't seem to be doing much better. Malfoy's eyebrows pulled together in frustration as his partner seemed to start following his own rules and Parkinson looked as if she were about to have an aneurysm. Even Granger was having a hard time. Not because she didn't know what she was doing, but because Neville kept trying to 'help.' Eventually Granger snapped something at him until Neville's face was bright red and burning bright. Ron felt slightly bad for him. Dealing with Granger was never a treat.

Ron was so caught up in his own musings that he didn't even notice Snape approaching until he felt the back of Harry's hand smack against his side under the table. Ron jumped forward to do... _something_ to make it look like he was helping in some kind of capacity.

Harry quickly slid over the cutting board for Ron to start in again.

"Dice, not cut," Harry murmured before stirring the cauldron in a carefully precise manner.

Just as Ron began, Snape approached their bench in his usual skulking manner. His eyes dragged over their work space accusingly before tutting and shaking his head. "Hmm. Are you sure you followed instructions?"

Ron could feel Harry's leg begin to bounce between them.

"Because it seems to me that this... _creation_... has achieved a more midnight blue hue whilst the directions I specifically gave were to produce that of a  _prussian_ blue. I don't think that should be _so_ hard, do you Mr. Potter?"

Ron curled his lip and made to say something he'd probably regret. Before he could, Harry kicked his chair and shrugged up at Snape. "I'll try my hardest to get that perfect _prussian blue_ shade for you, Professor. Cross my heart."

Snape's beady eyes narrowed and Ron held in a snicked as he glanced up from beneath his fiery red fringe.

"Five points for your cheek, Potter."

The two waited until Snape was soundly out of range before turning to each other. Ron immediately kicked out, catching Harry's chair leg. "Why'd you kick me?"

"Because _I_ wanted to say something."

Ron grinned brightly before let out a quiet laugh. Harry glanced over from where he'd leaned over the cauldron, beaming brightly.

Soon enough, they were able to escape, Snape still shooting nasty looks up until the moment they exited the classroom.

* * *

 Honestly, Ron can’t even completely remember why he jumped Crabbe.

It was after potions and the corridor was nearly empty. Ron and Harry had been spotted by Crabbe on their way out. He'd begun his regular taunting, trying to bait them. The two had done a remarkable job ignoring him until they'd nearly reached the turn.

From there, all Ron heard was Harry’s name come out of Crabbe's mouth just before Harry flinched in the corner of his eye. The next thing he knew, his fists were _beating beating beating_ , flesh on flesh echoing down the empty corridor for the three of them only.

Ron could feel the familiar sensation of his knuckles split when they landed against Crabbe’s jaw for the umpteenth time.

Crabbe wasn’t making any more sound. He couldn’t. He was gasping between desperate keens, too weak to fight back. It was pathetic, honestly. He lorded over others, using his size to intimidate them and gain power. But one little tap and he was crying for his mother like some pathetic child who craved the safety of her skirts to hide behind.

It was exhilarating. The rhythmic thumping of Ron’s fists against Crabbe’s face, his neck, his torso, anywhere he could land a punch, Ron did. It set a flame in Ron’s chest, wild and burning and overwhelming and _perfect_.

Ron was waiting for Harry to step in. Most people did, especially before he got this far.

(Mum made him go to counselling for his anger. It never worked.)

But he didn’t. Ron caught his eye at one point over his shoulder, expecting to find a teacher or for Harry to pull him away.

He’d come closer, but not to pull Ron off. He stood a few paces behind, kneeling down to stare Crabbe down with a look of fascination overtaking every part of his face.

So Ron kept hitting.

And kept hitting.

And hitting.

And hitting.

But eventually, Harry _did_ pull him away. They left Crabbe cowering on the freezing cold floor, moaning and whimpering like a broken record. Ron couldn’t help but land one final kick to the face, a sickening crack echoing as Crabbe’s nose broke under his foot before he passed out.

It was deathly calm in the corridor, Crabbe’s breathing ragged but his cries silent.

Honestly, Ron didn’t even remember how he got back into the boys’ dorms. He figured he must have blacked out and Harry had dragged him up. Thankfully, they were the only ones present.

Harry ran the tap and put Ron’s hands underneath. Ron hissed harshly, but left them under as Harry disappeared towards his bunk.

Ron glanced down to watch the blood wash from his knuckles and swirl down the drain. It was satisfying to watch. Evidence that everything really happened, of what he did.

“Gimme.”

Ron jumped as Harry’s hands gently touched his, pulling them closer. Ron stayed quiet as he watched Harry work, fingers quick and precise, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it.

“You’re really good at that,” he couldn’t help but comment.

Harry didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

“The wrapping,” Ron clarified. “You’re weirdly good at it.”

Harry shrugged a little, not bothering to respond as he continued his mission with a single-minded focus.

Ron couldn’t help the bad feeling that was itching at the back of his mind. Harry seemed much too comfortable bandaging wounds, and much too practiced at wrapping them.

He changed the subject.

“Remember how you talked about Granger’s eyes on the train?”

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together before he tilted his head from side-to-side. “Um, yeah. Vaguely.”

“You like watching people, don’t you?”

Another shrug and Harry’s lips pursing contemplatively.

“I guess?”

Ron sighed, wincing a bit as the torn skin pulled a bit too tightly.

“It’s just… when Crabbe and I were fighting you kinda just watched. Like you thought it was cool or something.”

“Maybe I just think _you’re_ cool.”

Unbidden, heat rushed to Ron’s cheeks as he hid behind the curtain of his bright red fringe.

“Thanks, but that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“Like you liked watching Crabbe get hurt.”

Harry finished up his bandage, putting everything back into his kit into his trunk before moving back towards their bunks. Ron followed, watching Harry stash it back in his trunk before flopping onto his bed. Ron sat on his own bunk, sitting and watching Harry stare up into the thick hangings draping over his bed.

“I kinda did?” Harry finally answered. “I mean, he deserved it. And, like you said, I like watching peoples’ eyes.”

“Why?”

Not judgmentally, just curious.

Harry bit his lip, twisting his hands together nervously. “I dunno. People lie. They lie and manipulate and hurt people. But their eyes don’t lie. They can say whatever they want, but their eyes can’t lie.”

Ron watched Harry reach his arms straight up, twisting his fingers together and making different shapes with his hands.

It seemed as if the conversation was over. But nearly ten whole minutes later, Ron answered back.

“I guess that makes sense.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow and turned to look at Ron. “Really? You don’t think I’m a freak?”

It seemed a bit arrogant, the way Harry said it. But his face was a different story. Ron knew he had to be careful with his words.

“For that? No. Now, your hair on the other hand-”

Harry threw a pillow, his rasping laugh ringing loudly throughout the dorm as his body shook wildly. Ron grinned in response, throwing the pillow back at Harry before leaning against his headboard.

* * *

Ron had decided. Halloween was definitely the best holiday if they kept feeding them like this.

Not once had Ron Weasley ever gone hungry in his life (except for that one time his family went hunting and they'd forgotten the food). But this was ridiculous. The good kind of ridiculous. The kind where Ron had the urge to laugh over and over in sheer excitement. Never mind that his family had never been able to afford anything this _rich_.

“I just feel bad for her. We _were_ kind of mean.”

But Harry just wouldn't let the Granger Issue drop.

Mouth stuffed with food, Ron rolled his eyes and shoved more in. “Oh _please_.”

“ _Really_. Ron, we were _mean_.”

The two looked across the table when there was an awkward clearing of someone's throat. Harry raised an eyebrow while Ron tried to quickly swallow what was already in his mouth.

“I’ve heard she’s been in the girl’s bathroom all night, crying,” Neville nervously muttered to the table.

Right on cue, Harry gave Ron a look that so clearly said _'I told you so.'_

This kind of argument went on for a while. Ron had become extremely defensive in a short matter of time, but it became clear that perhaps they hadn't known each other long enough for that. Ron could see that although Harry seemed solid to everyone else, he tended to shrink in on himself. A lot of things didn't add up, and even though it seemed like Harry wanted to be assertive, he couldn't always manage it with people who he respected or cared for. And whenever Ron would ignore him or give the silent treatment, Harry was anxious for Ron to start talking again. Like he was scared he never would again.

Ron was able to steer the subject away from Granger - _finally_ \- and it seemed like they would finally be able to settle down and enjoy themselves.

* * *

_"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”_

* * *

 Just like that, anarchy broke out. Ron couldn't even find it in himself to laugh at Malfoy's look of wide-eyed, open-mouthed terror before he was lost in the sea of Gryffindors struggling to make their way out of the Great Hall. He could feel someone gripping the back of his robes, and with a glance back he could see Harry holding on in order not to lose him. Without a thought, Ron reached back to take Harry's hand in his and pull him forward.

As they were making their way towards the stairs, Harry made some kind of sharp noise of distress. Before Ron could ask what was wrong he was being yanked away from the crowd and into an empty spot.

“Hermione!” Harry gasped. “She doesn’t know!”

“Harry wait!” Ron's yells fell on deaf ears as Harry took off like a shot straight down the dungeons.

Straight to Hermione.

Straight to the giant fucking troll probably eating its weight in rocks. 

“Oh _great_!" Ron didn't even have to think about his decision before he was racing after Harry, breath coming in harsh pants and stomach churning with early regret for what they were about to do. "Just _bloody_ great! Is this what I’ve signed up for?! Is this my life now for the next seven years?!”

Ron might as well have been screaming at a brick wall for all he got from Harry.

"You _arse_!"

* * *

 “So is this it? Are we really friends with Granger?”

Harry glanced up from his bed, pushing his glasses higher and shoving his mess of hair away from his face.

He was bright eyed, pleased by the incredible feats they'd accomplished that day. He couldn't stop grinning, especially when they'd arrived back at the common room and was able to talk about their battle against the troll and the shocking victory that followed. Ron had been proud too, maybe more so than Harry, but he'd insisted that Harry was the true hero in all of it. Hermione had agreed, which only made Harry blush bright underneath everyone's praises.

With a shrug, Harry tucked himself under the covers of his bed and settled down. Ron mirrored him as Harry took off his glasses and settled them on the nightstand. The lights went out and Ron stared up at the faint outline of the hangings above him.

“I’ve always liked brown eyes.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck? I'm still here? 
> 
> I'm all alone in this and I can barely spell 'beta read' so don't @ me
> 
> Comments are awesome, keep em up, and after this installation I'm pretty open about how this series is gonna go, so hmu if you have something you really wanna see.
> 
> Kisses,  
> -Angel


	3. Chapter 3

“Wow, you’re _really_ good at this.”

Hermione glanced up from her cauldron to where Harry was leaning over to stare at the murky grey potion. He looked rather impressed, and Hermione blushed at the praise.

“Thank you.” Hermione’s eyes lit up and her chest puffed outward. Whether with breath or pride, one couldn’t determine. “I mean, I really like it. It’s not like all the other subjects, when the only explanation is ‘magic.’ I mean, there’s magic here, obviously. But potions requires logic. There’s a sense to it. You grew up muggle, so you know.”

“Yeah, I get that. I like magic, but this is more like science.”

“Exactly!” Hermione’s chair creaked as she bounced up and down in place. Harry held the table so when she bumped it the cauldron didn’t spill over. “I used to want to be a scientist, but I don’t know anymore.”

“You could be a potions master like Snape.”

At the table in front of them one of the students gave a sharp laugh. Ron turned from where he sat next to Neville. Their potion was somehow some shade between orange and magenta. “And be miserable like him? Don’t do it, ‘Mione. I’m telling you right now. Do it and you’ll become a dingy little dungeon bat _forever_.”

Harry and Hermione both giggled quietly, ducking their heads so that Snape couldn’t see them do so. Ron beamed in front of them, not even noticing when Neville squeaked at their cauldron, now violently foaming over like a rabid dog.

“Hey, what’s scientesty?”

* * *

 

Christmas came and went with little fanfare. Harry was still obsessing over Snape and Ron was still piggybacking off of it. Hermione had busied herself with finding out who Nicholas Flamel was and his significance in their situation. And even though she hadn’t found anything, Hermione was glad to be back at school.

It was the first night back, either extremely late or at an ungodly hour in the morning, that Hermione and the boys sat up in the common room alone.

“Here.”

Harry pushed a rather thick volume into Hermione’s hands without warning. Hermione looked up at Harry, now pulling at his sleeves and glancing up at her beneath his fringe, before turning to the book. It was old and leather-bound, the outside of the pages glinting bright blue and the lettering on the spine a dingy silver.

 

_Master E.J. Catterwhompist’s Comprehensive Guide to the Eclectic and Multidisciplinary Practices of Potion Making_

 

“What is this?”

Hermione looked up to where Harry was sitting next to her, Ron leaning against the arm of the couch eating leftovers with his legs stretched over both of their laps. He was smiling, his lips twitching at the corners almost as if they weren’t sure which way to turn.

“Well, you really like potions, and I’m sure you’re way ahead of everyone, so…”

Hermione could feel something gentle blooming in her chest, taking hold and not letting go. It was warm and soothing, both slowing her heartbeat and making it burn as if it were about to burst from her chest. By the look on Harry’s face, he could tell. Maybe he felt something similar.

Hermione smiled back tentatively before taking a deep breath and asking the question she already knew the answer to.

“Is this from-” Hermione lowered her voice, looking around the common room to make sure they were alone before continuing, “the _Restricted Section_?”

“Yes.”

Apparently Hermione’s wide-eyed look of disbelief translated exactly as it was since Harry immediately backtracked.

“Unless you want the answer to be no? Then no. No, definitely not.”

Ron groaned from where he was watching, throwing a pillow at Hermione’s head. She laid a solid smack with the book to his shins. They shared a sharp glare before Hermione turned to Harry with a reproachful look brewing.

“ _Harry_.”

“Do you want me to put it back?”

Hermione should’ve said yes. She knew that.

But it was just so _nice_ . Hermione ran her fingers along the spine, aged leather soft against her fingertips. It was an issue she’d never seen before, not at Flourish and Blotts or in the classrooms. She would know, her parents took her to Diagon Alley for the holidays and let her pick out a plethora of books for her presents. It looked ancient, and when she opened up the first page, she was immediately met with a table of contents that listed a whole load of potions Hermione had never even _heard_ of or thought possible.

Plus, it would be downright _rude_ of her to just throw a Christmas present back in the gifter’s face.

And Hermione absolutely adored the little hopeful looks Harry had been throwing her the whole time. He looked nervous, biting his nails just a bit harder than what could be considered normal, his gaze flickering between Hermione and the present he’d obviously put much thought into.

She couldn’t just throw this right in Harry's face and let him down. Then what kind of friend would she be?

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt.”

* * *

 

Hermione watched the little maze next to her with a bit of fondness.

It was a little project she’d given herself in charms. She turned a piece of cardboard into a folding maze about the diameter of the sink in the second floor girls’ lavatory. (Usually Myrtle was sulking about, but it seemed today that she’d settled for visiting the dungeons.) Hermione would set traps for the rats on the floor and seal them inside of the maze until it was their turn.

This time, Hermione had chosen a fat brown rat that looked eerily like Ron’s.

Today Hermione chose a new potion to try. It was a shimmery golden color that the sun reflected perfectly. It was like a lake during summer, gentle and rippling and entrancing all the same.

Hermione had the strongest urge to run her hands through it, to let the liquid gold weave through her fingers and fall like gentle rain.

But she knew what would happen.

This rat would learn too.

Hermione closed off part of the maze with only her chosen subject inside. She was careful when using a dropped to take in some of the potion before holding it above the rat.

Three drops.

The reaction wasn’t instantaneous. Hermione watched the potion soak into the rat’s hair and to its skin. It took a few moments before its back began to convulse, twitching again and again and again, soon taking over the rat’s entire body.

The screaming came next.

Hermione moved closer, dropper discarded, hovering over the rat. Her heart beat faster as it’s screams became louder, pitiful little squeals that echoed off of the stone floor and walls. Her blood felt thick, sluggishly pulsing through her veins and making her body sag heavily. But at the same time, everything felt vivid and bright. Like summer mornings.

It wouldn’t have surprised Hermione if her heart burst out of her chest right this moment. It seemed inhuman in moments like this, the way her heart beat faster than one would think was possible. Hermione’s breathing caught, fast and hard, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Not when the screams got louder.

Not when the screams seemed suspiciously closer to that of breathless sobs.

Not when the rat started to run circuits, alternating between writhing pathetically on the dirty floor and desperately slamming itself into the cardboard wall over and over and _over and over and_

“Whoa.”

Hermione snapped around, eyes wide and breaths rapid as she stared up into the faces of her two best friends.

Whatever spell Hermione’d been under had broken, drawing her away from the little rat squealing on the floor. Like ice cold rain had disrupted her calm summer morning, drenching her straight through to her underwear and seeping deep to the very core of her. Freezing and foreboding and locking her bones into place so that it was impossible to move even an inch.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, looking over Hermione’s shoulder to get a better look at what was happening. His eyes were wider than usual and he looked slightly incredulous at the scene of Hermione’s crime.

Meanwhile, Harry stepped inside the lavatory, around Hermione and close to the maze where the rat was still screaming.

“Really? What is it then?”

For being top of the class and one of the brightest of their age, Hermione surprisingly had nothing to say for herself.

“Um.”

Ron scoffed, smirking Hermione’s way. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“I was just trying some potions!” Hermione’s voice was higher than she could ever remember it getting, tinged with the same panic that it’d taken on when she begged her primary school teachers not to schedule meetings with her parents, or when she had gotten a low grade on a transfiguration quiz and asked Professor McGonagall to let her retake it. _Please don’t tell._ “I needed to know if I did it right.” _I don’t want to be expelled._ “Muggle scientists do it all the time!” _It’s not_ bad _. I’m doing anything_ bad _._ “Right Harry?”

It was silent but for the screams of the tiny rodent trapped in its living hell.

Ron glanced around Hermione, slightly worried. “Harry?”

Harry had already made his way next to Hermione, kneeling on his knees and staring intently at the sectioned off part of the maze.

His eyes were wider than Hermione could ever remember. The screams of the rat were dying out into pathetic whimpers as it clawed at the ground and writhed in unimaginable pain. Hermione could see Harry’s mouth part and his chest begin to rise and fall with increasing intensity. His whole body was tense as he rocked forward to look closer with an all-consuming fascination that was at a whole other degree that Hermione had never seen before.

Harry’s voice was breathless as he answered with a tiny murmured “ _wicked_.”

Hermione had expected many things, but Harry’s reaction was not one of them.

She’d been waiting for the final blow - for the axe to drop. She’d already begun to prepare a defense for why she wasn’t wrong for what she was doing.

She also didn’t expect Ron’s reaction. A slightly surprised raise of the eyebrows in Harry’s direction, and a whole lot of curiosity without a shred of disgust tinging his tone.

“Do you like that?” Ron asked Harry from where he still stood in front of Hermione.

Hermione glanced back to look for an answer, but all Harry did was shrug half-heartedly and kneel closer to watch the crying rat.

“I know you like watching stuff, but-”

“C’mere.” Harry didn’t even look up, preferring to keep his eyes glued to the center of his focus. “Isn’t it cool?”

With only the slightest bit of hesitation to his steps, Ron moved past Hermione to lean down next to Harry.

It felt like there wasn’t any air in the room anymore. Like Hermione’s lungs had begun to collapse in on themselves and drop into her tummy to die a sad and pathetic death by stomach acid.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

The breath whooshed out of Hermione like she’d finally surfaced from the sea for the first time in her life.

“Do you have other potions like this?” Harry asked excitedly.

Hermione watched as Ron took out his wand to poke at the rolling rat.

It’s cries had wound down to half-hearted squeaks between heaving breaths. The tip came away red and tacky, but Ron barely glanced at it before wiping it clean on his robes. She could hardly see it against the darkness of the cloth.

“Loads,” Hermione heard herself murmur distantly.

“Well then…”

There was something in Ron’s voice that wasn’t quite right to Hermione. There was an edge to it that was... _off_ from how it normally was. Maybe she’d heard something similar before when Ron would talk about things like the people who mocked his family or the blood purity ideals that was so common in the world and politics. But it had never sounded like this before. Never so raw and open and and

And the grin that curled around Ron’s lips, all harsh lines and glinting teeth, only cemented that feeling deeper into her bones.

“What are you waiting for?”

But Hermione found that she quite liked it.

* * *

 

The feeling didn’t fade with time.

The trio of friends found themselves in that same lavatory every Saturday from then on, from morning until night (barring quidditch practices and games, of course). It was rare for someone to interrupt them there, and if they did, well, Moaning Myrtle had began to be fond of them. Ron and Hermione were convinced that it was because she had a massive crush on Harry, but Harry continued to insist that they were merely friends. (“And she’s dead.” “Myrtle doesn’t seem to care, Harry.” “Oh, shove it Weasley.”)

Today was the same routine that it had been for the last few months. The rats had already been set up in their little pen and Hermione had begun to brew a potion she’d found near the end of the textbook that she had yet to return to the Restricted Section. At the moment it had a sky blue color peppered through with silvery accents. Though it looked smooth to the touch, when Hermione stirred it, the potion turned thick and lumpy and began to smell like rotten eggs and cupcake frosting.

“Fluffy’s definitely guarding something.”

Harry’s hands went up in an exaggerated motion, slapping down on his knees as he stared emphatically towards Hermione. “Snape _has_ to be behind it.”

“I saw him jinxing your broom!” Hermione sighed and shook her head. She glanced up at Harry, who was rocking up on his knees to stare into the cauldron. “There’s no other possibility!”

There was a faint squealing behind Harry and Hermione from one of the rats. They glanced over to see Ron shushing a fat brown one with a crooked tail in his arms. It didn’t work, and the rat’s struggle increased dramatically. It’s screeching reverberated through all three childrens’ chests and rung in their ears hollowly.

Ron scowled angrily and squeezed his hands tighter around the rat. “Stop squirming you bloody rodent.”

Harry and Hermione shrugged and turned back, content to let Ron sit out the conversation at present. 

“Yeah, and then you set his cloak on fire.” Harry let out a little chuckle and grinned brightly. “Brilliant move, by the way.”

“Thank you. I do my best.”

Hermione looked up beneath a mass of wild curls and Harry’s smile quirked into a little smirk to match hers.

The rat began to scream.

“That’s really pretty,” Harry cut in, rocking up again to look into the cauldron.

Hermione nodded and tilted her head down to hide her furious blush. She threw in a bat’s heart and stirred counterclockwise, causing the potion begin to bubble mildly. “Isn’t it just lovely? It’s one of my favorites. It infects the bones and turn them to dust inside of the body.”

“ _Whoa_.”

“Yeah.”

The rat’s squealing had turned breathless behind them was escalating quite quickly, but Hermione’s attention was totally focused on the potion, as was Harry’s.

“You know Hermione, you-”

_SNAP_

The screaming stopped.

Harry and Hermione whipped around sharply, eyes wide and breath caught. Ron was leaning against the outside of one of the toilet stalls, rat laying limply in his hands and chest heaving rapidly.

The silence seemed to echo around them, shutting them in a bubble that seeming oh so far away from where they were now.

The rat’s body took in one final breath before caving in on itself, falling still.

No one moved for a while, staring in shock at their friend's still form.

It could have been minutes or hours later when Harry was the one to finally break the stillness of the room.

“What did you just do?”

The rat dropped to the floor with a dull _thud_.

Ron’s head snapped up, eyes finally leaving the body in his hands to stare blankly. His bright blue eyes seemed hazy as they flicked between Harry and Hermione.

He looked almost confused by the chain of events that had just taken place. It reminded Hermione of a blank television station - nothing but white noise.

“I… I just…”

But as the blankness that had taken over Ron’s face receded, Hermione could see a new expression taking over.

And this one… this one Hermione knew. She had seen it before during potions class. She’d seen it when Malfoy picked on his holey trainers and when he walked into the common room was bloody knuckles and a triumphant sneer curling about his lips.

It was _hungry_.

So, slowly, Hermione’s eyes flicked towards the maze that still had a few rats left to spare. She drew her wand and pointed it towards a spotted grey one with broken whiskers and gnarled toes.

Harry curled his legs up under himself and Ron absently twisted his scabbed hands about his knees. They watched as Hermione slowly levitated the rat up and out of its pathetic cardboard prison.

The watched it struggle against invisible bonds, twirling round and round like an acrobat - sans the skill and grace - before it came to a stop just before Ron’s feet.

“Wanna try it again?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM
> 
> There'll be more to come in this series, but this is it for year 1. As of right now, most things are the same in canon, so think of this as their origins or something. It'll diverge a lot more in later years.
> 
> Thank you for people who stuck around, and people who are new! Means a lot.
> 
> Kisses,  
> -Angel


	4. Chapter 4

Hi, so this work is already done, but the first chapter of the next part of the series is posted, just as a heads up.

 

Thanks for reading and commenting!

 

 

 

 


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